


day 13 - homemade gifts

by syntheticsoul



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticsoul/pseuds/syntheticsoul
Summary: Buck's doing something special for his family at the 118 this year, but there's only one issue- he doesn't know what to make for Eddie.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 26
Kudos: 206
Collections: 25 Days Of Buddie, 9-1-1 Tales





	day 13 - homemade gifts

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BUDDIE-MAS! Here's your fic for Day 13 - Homemade Gifts! I'm a little unsure of this fic - I've tried to work around it but it still feels a little heavy on the exposition. There was also a lot that I wanted to include but didn't, and the ending didn't come to me until, like, the day of posting. Ah, well. The idea was a fun one, and I'm glad I had the chance to write it! Definitely gonna have to rework it at some point. Shout-out to the 'I'm Your Buddie' server for the help and encouragement. Love you all. 
> 
> (And a lot of love for Desti for swapping days with me!)

Evan Buckley was a creative kid. He excelled in art class, and was happy to spend hours drawing, or working on collages. He was a kid who loved Christmas. The holidays allowed him a respite from his life; the sting of his parents' neglect and disinterest dulled for a few short weeks. So he combined his love of the two together, making homemade cards for his classmates and homemade gifts for his family. Buck was happy.

But then Maddie moved away. His mother grew more distant. His father had higher expectations for him, yelled louder and hit harder when he failed to meet them. So Buck forgot about it all. He gave away his sketch books and pencils, threw away his collage materials, pushed down the part of him that just wanted to create. He focused on working out, saving up, and finally getting out of that house. Buck focused on moving on, leaving almost everything from his past behind him; he wanted to find his place in the world. His purpose. 

Buck travelled around the country, never staying in one place too long. No place stuck with him, nowhere seemed to call out to him. But he didn't mind. He was meeting new people, making just enough to live on, and it was so different to what his father would have wanted from him that Buck couldn't find himself to care too deeply. He went where he wanted, influenced by a friend or a job opportunity, which is how he ended up in South America for a summer. After the summer, Buck found himself in Los Angeles, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged. He felt like he could settle down, make a _home._ And then he stumbled into firefighting (literally), and Buck felt like his life had meaning, that he was worth something. 

* * *

Buck had settled into his new life almost effortlessly. He had found a job he loved and that he was good at. He had found people he loved, and who loved him back, giving Buck the family he had always wanted. Everything seemed to be going, well, not perfect, if Buck was honest with himself, but definitely the best it had ever been. But something seemed to be missing. 

Buck hadn't done much for the holidays since being with the 118. He had made sure to put his heart into the gifts he'd gotten for his family, wrote thoughtful words on cards, and had turned up to celebrations when invited. He'd had a good time. Christmas had once again been an exciting time for the young firefighter. But he missed making gifts; Buck missed being creative, thinking up different ways to show his love. Sure, he had made Maddie cards since being in LA, but the lack of response from her hadn't exactly been encouraging. Not that he blamed her for that at all. He just couldn't shake his father's disappointment in his so-called "soft" interests. He couldn't stand to be rejected again, to have another drawing or collage just thrown in the trash. 

Two life-altering events in the span of six months put things in perspective, however. 

So, on his weekend off in late November, Buck was sat on the floor in his downstairs alcove, the coffee table covered in various supplies. Coloured paper and pencils, markers, glue, stickers; Buck had gone all out. Behind him sat a large bag, filled with presents to be wrapped, and more supplies for the presents he had yet to make. Christmas music filled his apartment. As he sat cutting out photos, Buck felt a sense of peace wash over him. 

* * *

Buck's practically finished by the time Sunday evening rolls around. All of his Christmas cards have been made and placed in envelopes, ready to be sent as soon as it's December 1st.

(It's more fun this way, he explains to Maddie when she comes over for dinner that night, defensive. Maddie simply smiles and says she's looking forward to it, knowing how much she looked forward to getting one in the mail whilst she was with Doug.)

Most of the presents had been wrapped, too. Buck checked his list as he placed the gifts back in the bag, wanting to be sure that he hadn't forgotten anyone. Everybody's gift had been sorted, except for three. Buck still had to make something for Hen, Karen, and Eddie. Hen and Karen weren't an issue; Buck had seen an ad for a beginner's pottery class in the same community centre he had made May, Harry and Michael's gifts at, and was excited to make them slightly wonky but functional mugs. 

But Eddie?

Buck had no idea what to get his best friend who he happened to have feelings for. 

He knew Eddie would appreciate anything he was given, but Buck felt like it had to be perfect. Eddie was... Eddie was important to him. As was Christopher. He had fallen in love with the Diaz boys, and being with them was like nothing he had ever experienced. He still thought about last Christmas, when one of Santa's elves had stopped him to comment on how adorable Christopher was; how adorable _their_ son was. And he hadn't corrected her. Because even if he didn't know the depths of his feelings back then, Buck had liked the sound of it. 

Buck was so lost in thought that he almost missed the knocking on his door. He shook his head, looking around the room and the mess he still had. Sighing, he let it go. Maddie could be just as impatient as he was, and there was no way Buck was going to be able to clean up before she forced her way in. He called out, making his way over to the door. 

(Later, when Maddie's gone, Buck cleans up. He places the Christmas cards on the table. He starts to turn away when he hears one fall. He lets out a huff as he turns back, picking up the offending letter. He smiles when he sees Abby's name - he's grateful that their way to friendship, despite their complicated end.

And then it hits him. )

* * *

By luck or by destiny or by Bobby's seemingly magical rostering skills, everyone on Buck's team had Christmas Day off. Athena had insisted that everybody come to the Grant-Nash household to celebrate, and that's how Buck found himself in the living room, nursing a mug of eggnog and watching his family. Warm conversations and laughter filled the house. He let it wash over him, and warmth settled in his chest.

A gentle bump against his shoulder brought Buck out of his reverie. He blinked, smiling as Eddie sat next to him. He bumped Eddie's shoulder back in greeting, the warmth intensifying. It was nice; Buck liked these quiet moments with Eddie. Regardless of his feelings, sharing a space with Eddie brought the younger man a sense of comfort and safety. They both enjoyed the companionable silence, watching Christopher as he played with Denny and Chris. The boy looked over and waved enthusiastically, and Buck and Eddie waved back. 

"You know," Eddie said, "he's super excited that you're sleeping over tonight. Told me it was the best Christmas ever when I told him."

The words hit Buck hard, the disbelief evident on his face. Between losing Shannon and being caught up in the tsunami, it had been a hard year for Christopher too. Buck wouldn't have blamed the kid for having less cheer than usual. But to hear that his simple presence was enough to make the day a good one absolutely floored Buck. He felt the tears threaten to fall, and he wiped at them hastily. He didn't want to bring the festive mood down by crying. Eddie moved closer to Buck and wrapped his arm around the younger man, offering comfort that was much appreciated. The touch grounded Buck, and the low-level apprehension he had been feeling about giving Eddie his gift faded away. The moment solidified Buck's belief in their friendship, in _them._ Regardless of what happened, he knew they'd make it through. 

He smiled at Eddie, warm and open, and pulled away, wiping the few stray fallen tears. He stood, laughing at the confusion that flitted across Eddie's face. He made his way to the Christmas tree on the other side of the room. Underneath, the gifts were spilling over, overflowing. But Buck immediately found what he was looking for, and went back to the couch, presenting the gift with a flourish.

"I was gonna wait until we got to your house, but I changed my mind. Didn't want you to feel like you missed out," Buck teased lightly. Eddie rolled his eyes, fond but exasperated. He placed the present off to the side, and copied Buck, heading to the tree and bringing a present back. He tossed it at the younger man, letting out a laugh as Buck fumbled with it. 

"I wasn't gonna get you anything, but Christopher insisted."

"Shut up and open your gift, Diaz."

Buck held his gift and sat in quiet anticipation as Eddie ripped the paper. He lifted out a wooden box - a little smaller than a shoe box - and let out an appreciative whistle. His fingers traced the golden hinges, down to where the name 'Diaz' was painted in neat cursive. He looked up, awe on his face. Buck felt his cheeks warm at the expression.

"You made this?"

Buck nodded. "That's not all it is, though. Open it up."

Eddie gave a mock salute as he did what he was told. He pulled out items one at a time, tears building up. There were photos, letters, mementos; pieces of Eddie's life all stored in one place, with room for more. There were items that he hadn't seen in years, or had completely forgotten about. Eddie looked up, his mouth open, waiting for something to come out. But then he saw one final item, a sealed letter address to him. He recognised Buck's handwriting and opened it without hesitation, giving it his full attention.

Buck, who had been watching Eddie with pride and love swelling in his chest, took the moment to open his own gift. He carefully peeled the paper, letting his excitement build. He found a photo frame, facing down. He turned it over to inspect what was in the frame, and another wrapped gift, much smaller than the original, fell to the ground. Buck picked it up and opened it. Inside was a single key, attached to a photo key chain. On closer inspection, Buck discovered that the photo used was a selfie he had taken of Christopher, Eddie and himself a couple of months earlier on a visit to the zoo. He smiled wide. He was confused, sure, but Buck was sure he'd figure it out. He turned his attention to the photo frame.

Most of the frame was occupied by a drawing from Christopher. Buck smiled as he saw cartoon version of himself and Eddie holding Christopher's hands, with what was probably Eddie's house in the background. There was a smiley sun in the corner, and a love heart in another. Overall, not entirely new concepts for one of Christopher's drawings, but Buck could tell that the kid had put in extra effort for this one. He was about to thank Eddie when something caught his eye. 

Christopher liked to label his drawings. But instead of labelling Buck's portrait with "my Buck" or "Bucky" like usual, Christopher had written "Papa Buck". Buck's heart clenched, simultaneously overwhelmed with love and panic. It was no secret that he loved Christopher like his own, enough that strangers had commented on it. Buck would move mountains for that kid, and he counted himself lucky to have him in his life. But he never wanted to impose himself on the Diaz boys; Buck never wanted to force himself into a place where he may not belong. He may love Christopher as his own, but that didn't mean he was. He didn't have that right. 

Buck was about to look up, an apology already forming on his lips, when he noticed something else. At the bottom of the drawing, there was a note. Despite his panic, Buck smiled to himself as he noticed Eddie's messy scrawl. 

_Buck,_

_I know we've done things a bit backwards here, but I wouldn't want it any other way. You've become such an important part of both of our lives. You love and care for Christopher as I do, and that blows my mind. For all intents and purposes, you are Christopher's other parent, and I couldn't ask for better._

_So, Christopher and I would be honoured to have you move in with us._

_And, maybe, I could take you out on a date. Try to catch up on the steps we've missed._

_Regardless of your decision, know that we love you, and you will always be family._

_\- Eddie_

Buck couldn't stop the tears from falling this time. It almost felt too good to be true. But it was. Because through watery eyes, Buck could see the love he felt mirrored on Eddie's face. His own letter to his best friend seemed to have created the same impact, the same realisation that this was something they could have; that a future together was possible. 

He wanted to say something poetic. He wanted to joke that only they could write each other a letter of confession as a Christmas gift. He wanted to agree, to say yes to everything Eddie was offering. 

What Buck ended up saying was, "We're both idiots."

"Speak for yourself."

They laughed, and Buck is comforted that no matter the change in their relationship, they're still _them._ Buck caught Eddie's gaze after a moment. Instinctively, Eddie reached out, his hand falling on his shoulder and his thumb seeking out his collarbone. Buck leant into the touch. 

"Evan," Eddie whisper, sending a shiver up Buck's spine, "can I kiss you?"

Buck nodded, blue eyes transfixed on hazel. Eddie lent in and pressed his lips against Buck's. It was nothing more than a gentle pressure, a promise of love and things to come. Even though it was over in a moment, it was one of the best kisses Buck had ever had. Smiling, he leaned in for another one. Eddie obliged happily, letting the kiss deepen as his hand moved to cup Buck's cheek. Loud cheers interrupted them, and Buck pulled away, blushing hard. His entire family had managed to filter into the room without either of them noticing. Embarrassed as he was, Buck couldn't have hoped for a better outcome. Eddie shuffled closer into his space as everybody found a place to sit, with Athena and Bobby preparing to hand out gifts. Buck linked his fingers with Eddie, and Eddie responded with a kiss to his cheek.

Evan Buckley loved Christmas.


End file.
